A Sight to Behold
by Lila2
Summary: Chuck isn't the only Upper East Sider who needs to grow up
1. Love, it would be much better

**Title:** "A Sight to Behold"

**Author:** Lila

**Rating: **PG-13

**Character/Pairing:** Blair, Blair/Dan

**Spoiler: **"The Kids Stay in the Picture"

**Length:** Part I of III

**Summary: **Chuck isn't the only Upper East Sider who needs to grow up.

**Disclaimer:** Not mine, just borrowing them for a few paragraphs

**Author's Note:** Oh man. This is the culmination of: too much Florence and the Machine and the new PJ Harvey. Mourning the loss of LCD Soundsystem. Trying and failing to write "Vampire Diaries" fic. Spring Break and lots of time on my hands. So we have this, four years in the making. Title and cut courtesy of Devendra Banhart. Enjoy.

* * *

><p>There are Van der Woodsens on your TV screen.<p>

You watch a parade of them, Lily and Rufus arriving, Eric leaving, and even Serena's dad doing his best not to smile as the flashbulbs light up around him.

Lily's life is falling apart but she's rallied her troops and you know she'll pull through. She's a Van der Woodsen; they always have a way of coming out on top. You're not nearly as worried as you probably should be.

You spot Serena amongst the flashing lights, a determined look pasted on her face as she pushes through the crowd, and you wait for a mess of dark hair and flannel to appear at her side, holding her together and keeping her afloat.

She's alone and you almost don't recognize her, because her world is dissolving around her, and Dan Humphrey isn't riding to the rescue.

You try to tell yourself it isn't something; you can't delude yourself into believing it's nothing.

* * *

><p>Turns out, it's your world that falls apart and Dan Humphrey is right in the eye of the storm.<p>

_ChuckandBlair, BlairandChuck_

Your life has always cycled back to its most important moments and it ends where it started, with your heart on your sleeve and ripe for the plucking, and it gets crushed into a million pieces by the same boy.

You've always known you can't have what you want but it's not fair that you never get what you need either.

You did the heavy lifting. You worked hard. Chuck will never be perfect, but you deserve to win for once.

Your evening ends and there's a dark-haired boy at your side but he's not the right one.

For all your well-placed barbs, you know Dan's not a moron. He got into Yale and NYU and you're loath to admit it, but you have a strong feeling his verbal score might have been higher than yours.

He's spent four years in your company on the Upper East Side – even he can see through something as transparent as an "Up and Comers" section in a book about "Modern Royalty."

He comes anyway, because he knows you'll be there or he wants to impress you or…the reason doesn't matter.

He comes with a brave set to his shoulders and laughter in his smile but it's his eyes that betray what he's feeling inside.

They're soft and kind and they can't stop looking at you. You hear his words, social experiments gone wrong, but you can't move past the way he's watching you: like he means what he says; like he cares about your happiness.

Your kiss might have meant nothing, but it doesn't mean he isn't worth something.

When he you promises you a happy ending, you believe him.

* * *

><p>You're done waiting.<p>

Your heart is broken but you patch it back together and get on with your life.

You find a routine: shopping with Serena, renewed interest in your classes, Skype sessions that bridge the ocean between New York and Paris.

Dan stays too.

The Lily mess means he's in Serena's orbit more and the blowup at the photo shoot means he hovers over you.

You're still not friends, but you like not-meeting-up-with-him at Whitney or the Frick and one night there's even a viewing of _Rebecca_ at the loft.

You fall asleep midway through and wake with your head on his shoulder, Manderley aflame and frozen onscreen. You used to think it was beautiful but somewhere in the last year it lost its charm.

Dan is still as a statue beneath you, one arm lazily thrown behind your shoulders, but his eyes are trained on your face.

It's dark and you can't tell what he's thinking but you still know the look in his eyes: soft, warm, kind, forgiving. None of the things you'd see in yourself.

You push up and away from him and his arms drops but he doesn't stop watching you. "I can tell you how it ends," he says softly. "Manderley is destroyed but they get away. They get to start over. That's how it is for all of us."

You don't want to do this here, with him, but he was there when it happened. He's Dan Humphrey and he's not your friend but he might be the only person who understands.

Tears well in your eyes and you blink hard but can't quite keep them from rolling down your cheeks. "I was ready," you whisper. "After what happened…I thought he could give me that much, but I was wrong. I'm always wrong."

"I've been there too. How many times did I try with Serena? It never worked." He reaches up and wipes away a tear and you're too tired to stop him. He's already seen your heart break for Chuck Bass – the least he can do is help you put it back together.

"You didn't go to her that night," you remind him. You'd given him specific instructions and he'd failed to follow them. It's not a detail you'd easily forget.

"I learned my lesson. What's the point in trying if the end result is always the same?" His eyes flicker to the screen and back to you. "We don't get to choose who we love but we get to choose what we do with it. No one said moving on is easy, Blair, but it doesn't make it any less avoidable."

You laugh, because this entire conversation is ridiculous – you're taking love advice from a boy who thought he was in love with Vanessa and raised Georgina Sparks' Russian baby as his own. "You're not one to talk, Humphrey."

His fingers drop from your cheek and he holds his hands up in surrender. "I got over my Van der Bass, Waldorf. I'm volunteering my services in helping you do the same."

"Time," you say to him. "All I need is time."

"And maybe a hobby," he says and starts rambling about his writing but you're already tuning him out. You lost "W" and thought you lost a piece of yourself, but you know how to get it back. There are minions to control and secret societies to run – you're done wallowing in your own misery.

You spring from the couch and leave without saying goodbye. He's Dan Humphrey; you know he'll understand.

"I meant painting, or maybe gardening," he calls after your retreating form but you can't hear him over the plans spinning in your mind.

Time is a luxury you have and a cure is what you crave.

A hobby, a distraction, getting over Chuck Bass…Dan has given you exactly what you want.

* * *

><p>In the end, you don't need minions or Hamilton House.<p>

You need Dan Humphrey.

Serena's cousin sticks around and there's something not right about her. Her eyes are too open, her hair too shiny, and you don't trust the way she can't stop staring at Dan.

You don't like it.

You're still not friends, but he's wormed his way into your life. You're nothing if not protective of the things that matter to you.

Georgina Sparks and Juliet Sharpe are fresh in your mind, but Brooklyn dominates his and he can't help but seeing the good in people even if you see the warning signs clear as day.

You catch Charlie raiding Serena's closet and you catch her reading a copy of _10-08-05_ and you even catch her breaking into the loft but there's always an excuse and Dan has the boundaries of a four-year-old and buys her lies.

You don't have the right evidence but you know better. You're Blair Walfdorf – a hunch is all you need. But he's Dan Humphrey and he has to second guess every threat you neutralize.

_"She's new to the city, she's nice, she doesn't know anyone"_ he protests against the texts you send at rapid speed.

You sigh and grumble under your breath, ignore the eyebrow arching up Dorota's forehead. This isn't love or even like. You just can't stand another crazy bitch winning.

"He said to find a hobby," you tell Dorota as she stands guard while you download Charlie's file from Barnard. "I'm just doing what I do best."

"I have baby!" she reminds you. "I don't think Mr. Daniel want her to grow up with no mother."

You start to correct her but there's a noise and then an admin assistant returning from lunch, and then you're both fleeing down a corridor before you have time to process that Dan stopped being Lonely Boy and turned into a real person.

* * *

><p>You find your proof – stalking a professor, suicide attempt, all the Rhodes party tricks – and you take it to Dan and let him decide.<p>

You're tempted to confront Charlie herself, but the Empire is still rubbing salt in wounds slow to heal. You know what it's like to have your choices taken away. You won't do the same to him.

He stares at the evidence in his hands and lets out an enormous sigh. "I don't think I'm ever making a new friend again."

You smile, feel more like yourself. You saved someone you care about. This is who you are.

"Buck up, Humphrey," you say. "It's not like this is the first time you've done something stupid for a blonde girl."

He just shakes his head and reaches for his notebook. "Well, we know how I'll be spending the afternoon."

"My work here is done." You pick up your purse and button your coat. You've been in Brooklyn almost thirty minutes – if you stay any longer it might become a habit.

"Blair," he calls out when you're halfway out the door. You pause and it has nothing to do with his words. A beam of sunlight is falling over his face, highlighting the planes of his cheeks and the gratitude in his dark eyes. He's handsome, startlingly so, and you blink to push the image away. You've have your fill of men with deep, dark eyes. "Thank you," he says.

He doesn't touch you, doesn't ply you with stockings and macaroons or even reach over and touch your hand.

He stares into your eyes as he says the words and they let you know he means what he says.

It means something to you.

* * *

><p>You save Dan Humphrey and suddenly he's everywhere.<p>

Coffee before class, tickets to an Epstein screening at the MoMa, a recent printing of Anna Karenina with a new foreword.

You remind him that you don't attend the same school anymore, that you're too old for fairytales, that throwing yourself under train tracks is the exact wrong way to tackle heartbreak, but he doesn't back down.

"All this time…I should have seen it coming," he explains while he gathers mugs for tea and a bowl for popcorn. He's wearing plaid and jeans, but spring is coming and the first few buttons of his shirt have been left undone. He plays soccer with Nate sometimes and you can see its effect, the slight rounding of muscle cresting under the exposed skin.

You look away and turn back to his dvd collection. "Sometimes you're slow on the uptake, Humphrey," you remind him. Four years and he still hasn't learned. You kind of like it about him. You can't remember a time you believed in people so easily.

He comes up beside you, slides a mug of chamomile across the counter. "I never thought I'd matter enough to be worth saving."

You don't have an answer. You've saved him before – for Serena, Serena, Serena, Serena – but Charlie worships her cousin. You did this just for him. You shrug, burn your tongue on the cup of tea you're suddenly gulping down.

"I don't like watching Tati alone."

When you glance up at him he's watching you with those warm, dark eyes, amusement crinkling their corners. "Of course," he says and reaches for the dvd you chose: Bogie, romance, an affair gone wrong.

"I've never seen this one," you say, wrap your hands tighter around the steaming mug of tea. It burns but it's a good distraction. "Is it any good?"

The amusement spreads, creeping into the curve of his mouth. "Why don't you see for yourself?" He plops down on the couch and you curl beside him, a healthy six inches of space between you. You tuck your bare legs under your skirt and it pools around your calves, soft, cool silk spreading over your skin.

It brushes his arm and he pauses, takes a breath, but quickly realigns and turns on the dvd player. You ignore his reaction. He was raised in Brooklyn. You wouldn't expect any other response to the finer things that make up your life.

The movie is good. Darker and more depressing than Bogart's usual fare, but you don't mind. You need a change of pace.

You're awake when it ends, eyes fixed on the tv, but he isn't watching the screen because he's watching you.

There are many questions you could ask – is your hair a mess? did your mascara run? why is he such a weirdo? – but you don't say a word because you already know the answer. You've known the answer for weeks, since you ended things with Chuck and he stood there, eyes soft like a wounded puppy's. You've see those eyes before. They were never for you but you know what they mean all the same.

He takes a breath and his dark eyes go wide, but he still reaches forward and brushes your hair back from your face.

You don't stop him. You don't hit him. You can't deny the way the air suddenly leaves you chest when his fingers rest over the curve of your cheek.

You know he's going to kiss you. You know it before it happens and you know how easy it would be to stop it, but you don't. You've been kissed by him before and it made you fall deeper in love with Chuck Bass. He can kiss you as many times as he wants and it won't change how you feel.

It changes everything.

His mouth is as soft and warm as his eyes and something flutters deep in your belly. You tell yourself to kill those butterflies dead, but he cups your face in his hands and they leap to life.

His jaw is scratchy and the angle isn't great but you don't want him to stop. You like the way he feels, the way he tastes, the way he sighs a little when you open your mouth and feel his tongue against yours.

It lasts a minute, maybe more, and his cheeks are bright red when you pull away. You're both a little breathless but you're Blair Waldorf and you've shown him enough weakness. You set your mouth into a harsh line and tell the butterflies to stop fluttering but nothing you can do will calm the rapid beat of your heart.

"Explain yourself," you demand and keep your expression blank even when the words come out a little shaky.

One hand is still resting on your shoulder and it slips up the column of your throat, pressing gently at the pulse point and making you gasp. "I lied," he finally says. "That kiss – it didn't mean nothing. It meant something then and now it means everything."

"Humphrey," you start but he silences you with another kiss. This one is gentle, just a brush of his lips over yours, but the fluttering starts again in your belly and it's enough to make you stop talking.

"There's something here," he says. "Maybe it wasn't there before but it's here now."

You try to defend yourself. "I take issue with insane blondes ruining people's lives."

He ignores you and gestures around the loft. "I reorganized all my books. I wrote a terrible short story. I even tried to write a song. The point is I can't stop thinking about you and I'm ready to stop fighting it."

His final words are the ones that make you take notice. Four years you loved Chuck and it was never enough. Jack Bass laughs at you, Jenny Humphrey too, and you want to cry because it's not fair. It's just not fair. All the times you bent and broke for someone else and you still can't have what should be yours.

"This isn't what I want," you say and you're sure the words hurt but he only smiles.

"Maybe I'll be what you need."

Four years you loved Chuck and he only succeed in breaking your heart. You can't move on with your life if you're living in the past.

This time, you're the one to tangle a hand through dark curls and draw his mouth to yours.

You can't see happily ever after with Dan Humphrey but it's worth a try.

* * *

><p>Writers live for feedback – please leave some if you have the time<p> 


	2. Taking a risk

**Title:** "A Sight to Behold"

**Author:** Lila

**Rating: **PG-13/Light R for some sexiness

**Character/Pairing:** Blair, Blair/Dan

**Spoiler: **"The Kids Stay in the Picture"

**Length:** Part II of III

**Summary: **Chuck isn't the only Upper East Sider who needs to grow up.

**Disclaimer:** Not mine, just borrowing them for a few paragraphs

**Author's Note:** Thank you for all the support. It's been a long time since I've written GG fic and it's nice to see people are still enjoying what I'm writing. Title still courtesy of Devendra Banhart. Enjoy.

* * *

><p>Dating Dan Humphrey isn't all that different from not-being-friends-with-Dan-Humphrey.<p>

You go to museums and you go to movies. You sit side by side on the loft's couch and read novels published hundreds of years ago. You talk some and even laugh.

Except there's more touching. And more kissing. And you learn things about him that you're not sure you want to know.

Like how his favorite book is Native Son and the end of Great Expectations is the most disappointing thing he's ever read.

Or that he doesn't really like Tati but he likes to laugh, and there's a copy of "The Hangover" hidden behind Rufus' discarded records.

When it rains, he likes to listen to a band called Grizzly Bear, and while their music makes you want to cry your eyes out, you can't deny the beauty in the melodies.

April showers might bring May flowers, but the month is cold and wet and one afternoon you find yourself lying on his couch with your head pillowed on his chest, the flannel soft beneath your cheek. One arm is curled around your waist but his other hand strokes lazy circles over your back.

_This is a foreground…_ Dan's iPod croons and you watch the rain splatter against the window panes.

You feel like you should say something, fill up the space around you, but there's nothing to be said. There's silence in the room but it's not empty.

You close your eyes and let the rain and Dan lull you to sleep.

It's not supposed to be this easy. You tell yourself it's because it's not going to last.

* * *

><p>You don't tell the rest of the world.<p>

There's Serena to consider and reputations to maintain, and besides, it's not a relationship to begin with. Why bother igniting a Gossip Girl blast when there's nothing concrete to share?

"A social experiment," you say to him a week into whatever it is you're doing. You're at the loft again, where Van der Woodsens rarely tread, sorting through dvds while he fills the popcorn bowl. "That's what this is, right?"

His hands still on the popcorn and his shoulders tighten into a hard line. "Whatever you say, Blair." He puts down the bowl and swivels your stool, bends his knees a little so he can kiss you. "Keep doing this and you can call us whatever you want."

You smile up at him when he pulls away but you don't like the look in his eyes. There's a hardness there that reminds you too much of Chuck.

You take his hand and lead him to the couch, rest your head on his shoulder and your fingers on his thigh, like there's nothing different about the way he looks at you.

You've always been masterful at ignoring the red flags springing up around you.

* * *

><p>Lily celebrates the end of her community service with a party and Serena makes you come.<p>

You don't want to go. Chuck will be there, and Dan, and you're not ready to face both of them in the same room. Although really, you're not ready to face Chuck. It's been less than two months since he broke you're heart; you're not healed enough to risk it again.

Serena is Serena and conveniently forgets the "Modern Royalty" shoot. "You're family, B!" she insists when you try to get out of it. "I need you there." She's a Van der Woodsen and you're a Waldorf; you know how this argument will end. You give in and stop by Bergdorfs to buy a new dress.

You tell yourself it's to celebrate Lily; you ignore the voice worrying whether Dan will like it.

The dress is green and brings out the red in your hair, with a short skirt but long sleeves, and the back dips so low it's almost indecent. Almost. You're in her house, but you're still Blair Waldorf and know better than to take fashion tips from Serena.

Dan is there in a suit and he's shaved but his curls tumble around his face and your grip tightens on your champagne to keep from running a hand through them. He's talking to Charlie, defanged after a visit to the Ostroff Center, and he smiles at her but keeps a casual distance.

You watch as he laughs at something she says and marvel at how he can be so…nice. You've made a life out of destroying the people who hurt those you love. You don't understand how he can forgive so easily.

You could barely muster a "hello" for Chuck when you walked off the elevator and then immediately downed Nate's martini. The two of them have slunk off somewhere and you're grateful they're out of sight, even if those four years of heartbreak weigh heavily on your mind.

You're not ready to forgive, not yet.

Serena looks the happiest you've seen her in months and the smile on her face is genuine. "Things are so great, B," she squeals, nails digging into your arm. "I'm in a good place with my mom, my family is back together…"

You tell yourself it's for those reasons that you say no when Dan asks you to dance.

He comes up beside you but your back is to the wall and one of his hands brushes over the skin exposed by the deep cut of your dress. You suck in a breath, fingers tightening again around your glass, and feel a shiver creep down your spine.

"Dance with me?" he asks and his eyes search the crowd rather than look at you, but you know he's wearing a satisfied smirk. You take a small step forward, put distance between yourself and his hands.

"Not tonight," you say and turn your gaze to Serena. Lily has an arm around her waist and you can't remember the last time she smiled like that. You won't take it away from her.

"Dance with me," he tries again and this time it's not a question. His voice changes too, deepens to a near whisper, and you'd find it attractive if it didn't remind you so much of Chuck.

You can feel his eyes on your face so you turn to look up at him and you really don't like what you see there. There's anger lurking in those dark depths. You've never seen those emotions on him before. It reminds you too much of the past. "No," you hiss. "What we do in the loft is one thing. Out here is my world. You know the rules."

He shakes his head and storms off in Eric's direction.

You ignore the chorus of alarm bells ringing in your head.

* * *

><p>He gets his way after all.<p>

There's a Renais retrospective at the Film Forum and you accept his extra ticket. It's early spring but nights are still chilly and you shiver under your thin sweater while he stands on the street corner and fails to flag down a taxi.

He notices the way you're hunched over and slips out of his jacket immediately, drapes it over your shoulders and moves to wrap his arms around you.

You glare daggers at him and take a step back. You're in the depths of the West Village but Gossip Girl's cameras have no range. You half expect Vanessa to peek out from behind a telephone pole.

He sighs and holds up a hand and a cab comes to a screeching halt beside him. He opens the door and you slide inside, even move over to give him room, but he doesn't climb in after you.

"Where are you going?" Your words are more clipped than you intended, but you're angry and he should know it. He doesn't put you into cabs by yourself and go on with his night. It's not what you do.

"Home. Alone."

"Since when?"

"Since you made it clear you're not interested in my company."

In the rearview mirror, the cabbie is trying hard to laugh, and you let out a frustrated snarl and push out of the taxi. It drives away and Dan's face falls; he spent ten minutes hailing that cab and you're letting it sprint away.

"What is your problem, Humphrey?" You're still shivering in the late spring air but your anger is a good distraction. You don't even realize you're walking towards him until you can feel your breasts pushing against the hard planes of his chest.

"I like you." He says the words soft and low, but they ring out crystal clear. "I wish you weren't so ashamed to like admit you like me too."

His words hit hard and you're surprised by how much they hurt. It's not supposed to be like this. You're with Dan because he's a distraction, a rebound – real feelings aren't supposed to be involved.

He's calmed down some since his outburst but his eyes reel you in. They're a soft and little dewy in the moonlight and he kind of looks like he might cry. There's a sharp pain in the general region of your ribs but you ignore it. This is still supposed to be nothing. You refuse to let it be something.

When you don't say anything he takes a step back and closes his eyes. "Okay," he says. "I said what I had to say. Keep the jacket." He turns on his heel and starts walking away.

You focus on the long, straight line of his back and he's Dan Humphrey – Brooklyn, flannel, obsessions with crazy blondes – but you can't watch another boy walk out of your life. You know what he wants; you're just not sure you're strong enough to give it to him.

Your mouth does the deciding for you, makes the call that you know will change your life forever. "I'm not ashamed," you whisper and he turns, stops in his tracks. "I'm not ashamed," you say again because you need him to understand: he doesn't embarrass you. You've been seen nearly twenty times with him at museums and coffee shops. Gossip Girl knows you're friends. _Serena _knows you're friends. You're just not sure you're ready to face a world knowing you're more than friends. "I'm just not brave like you."

"What are you talking about?"

You're the one to close your eyes, Constance and St. Jude's washing over you like a bad memory. "All those years…we made your life hell. I made your life hell. But you never backed down and you never gave up. You think I didn't notice, but I did. I'm not…that's not me."

He laughs and shakes his head and finally, finally, there's laughter in his eyes. "Are you kidding me? You're 95 pounds of girly evil, Blair. There has never been a fight you haven't fought, a challenge you haven't taken. You're the toughest person I know."

He's never lied to you and you know he means what he says but it seems like too much. You glance left and glance right, swear you see a flashbulb out of the corner of your eye. Your chest feels tight, and it's the Colony Club and yogurt in your hair and Yale all over again. You don't understand why you always have to sacrifice the things you want. "Dan…"

"It's never too late to be brave." He takes a step forward and the glow of the streetlight draws the shadows from his eyes. He's looking at you like you're the most beautiful person in the world, the way you always wanted Chuck and Nate and Marcus…and the list goes on and on. He's looking at you the way you've always wanted someone to look at you. You think you'd give anything for someone to keep looking at you that way.

"Fine," you say and the resulting smile makes the butterflies in your belly leap to life.

He holds out a hand but it's your turn to put your feelings on the line. If you're going to admit the truth, you might as well go all in.

You reach up and cup his stubbled jaw in your hands, kiss him on the corner of 6th Avenue and Houston for all the Upper East Side to see.

You're shaking slightly when you break apart and it's not from the cold.

He takes your hand, fingers sliding between yours, his thumb turning lazy circles over your palm. "It's going to be okay," he says and you try to pretend your world isn't going to collapse, that the people who matter won't shun you, that you just sold out a future you spent twenty years building to slum with a peasant in Brooklyn.

"Don't let me go," you say as he hails another cab. You rest your head on his shoulder and curl into his side, let him bear the weight of the mistake that will be the end of you.

He holds your hand all the way home.

* * *

><p>The maelstrom that follows is mostly in your head.<p>

There is a Gossip Girl blast and a slam of mocking jests in its wake, but a week later Fiona Coyne kisses her brother to make his girlfriend jealous and no one cares that you're slumming in Brooklyn anymore.

You bring Dan to a Hamilton House party and there's a stunned silence when cross the foyer, but he's wearing a suit and wrangled his curls and you walk through the door with your head high and your hand clasped firmly in his, and an hour later Penelope is asking if he has any single friends.

The Cotillion board asks you to mentor another round of debutantes and you stare at the invitation for a good three minutes waiting for the joke to reveal itself before you realize that it isn't a prank. You attend meetings and there are snide smiles when you offer suggestions, but the powerful women you worship are used to Lily Van der Woodsen's antics. You're positive they're talking about you behind their backs, but they don't cut you out the way you feared.

You don't think about the long months you spent toiling for Chuck and the Empire and Girls' Inc. and Chuck again. You can't go back there, to the years you lost, the choices you might have made. You were you who you were then and you're who you are now. You promised yourself to go on with your life.

You paste on your brightest smile and keep moving forward.

* * *

><p>Gossip Girl does the ice breaking for you and each person in your life reacts differently.<p>

Nate practically falls off the couch laughing when you sit him down to break the news and Eric rolls his eyes and tells you to tell him something he doesn't already know.

Chuck takes off for Nairobi and you make a lame joke about him being eaten by a lion.

Serena just stares at you and hugs a pillow to her chest.

"You should have told me first," she finally says.

You roll your comforter between your fingers and smooth your skirt, anything to avoid looking at her face. You remember when you confronted her about Nate – you don't want her to see the same guilt in your eyes.

"I didn't know how to tell you. You've been so happy lately. I couldn't find the right time."

"There never is a good time for something like this." She reaches out and her fingers circle your wrist, dig in hard enough to force you to look up at her. "I'm not saying it makes us even, but I know how you feel. I get it. I do."

You don't know what's more surprising, how easily she accepts this thing with Dan or how much her betrayal still stings. You don't love Nate anymore but he's still something she stole. You're not sure you'll ever fully forgive that. "Nate was my first love and Dan was yours."

She smiles sadly. "I don't get forever with him. Our parents are married, we share a sibling...you'd think we'd have figured it out sooner, right?"

There are many ways you could respond – karma, payback, consequences of poor decision making – but this is Serena and high school ended two years ago. The circumstances are different but you try to see things from her perspective: you didn't steal Dan, but you're the one he's building a future with.

"I'm not trying to hurt you, S," you say softly. She's your best friend and there have been times you hated her more than Jenny Humphrey and Vanessa Abrams combined, but now isn't one of those times. She's your best friend and you're breaking her heart. Tears spring to your eyes; you're kind of breaking your own heart too.

Serena's eyes are watery but she forces a smile and you're confronted by how much she's grown up. Her mom, Juliet, the love of her life dating her best friend…she's handling everything with a poise you've never seen before.

"Take care of him, okay? Try not to make out in front of me. I want you to be happy but it still hurts, you know?"

You know. There was Eva, and Raina, and there will be girls after them. You can't expect him to wait for you forever.

"I didn't mean for this to happen," you tell her because it was the last thing you were expecting.

She laughs. "He has a funny way of sneaking up on you."

You smile, feel the tension in the room start to fade, even as your chest gets tight.

It was supposed to be a distraction but now it's something. You ignore how it's well on its way to becoming everything.

* * *

><p>You apply to every major magazine in New York City and get rejected by all of them.<p>

Your time at "W" hangs over your head and it's barely a surprise but still hurts. You're smart and you're capable – you just want a chance to prove yourself.

You're sobbing when you call Dan and even though it's during his finals week, he takes an hour to talk you down from the ledge.

It's only when you're hanging up, tears drying on your cheeks, that you realize you didn't call Serena first.

* * *

><p>He isn't there the next morning but there's a platter of bagels and lox and capers, and Dorota can't keep the smug smile from her face when you greet the dining room table with stunned silence.<p>

"What's this?" you snap, eyeing the bagels warily. Dorota knows you only eat carbs on special occasions.

"Mr. Daniel," she says and struggles to keep the smile off her face. "He know you upset and call France." She gestures to the food spread before you. "He want you to be happy today."

There's a note too apologizing for his absence and a list of law firms you've never heard of scrawled in his neat handwriting. It takes a minute for it to all come into focus, and you tell yourself it's early and you haven't had your coffee; it's anything but tears brimming in your eyes.

**There's nothing you like more than bossing people around. Maybe you can do with the law on your side.**

You stare at the note, the various firms blurring into a fuzzy line, and let out a strangled laugh. The things you wanted most – they always came with a price. NYU might not have been for you, but Columbia should have been your choice.

You turn away from Dorota and her cheshire grin, take a deep breath and dial his number. He sounds exhausted when he picks up on the third ring, but you can hear the smile in his voice and something tight and warm blooms in your chest.

"Thank you," you say, soft and kind, more of a sigh than actual words.

"I don't want to step on your toes, but I figured you needed a push."

You remember how you felt after "W," how much more it hurt because of how hard you worked to get it. You remember the rush you'd felt when you'd earned something because of you, just you, not your address or your mother's connections. You want to feel that way again. You stare at the notepad in your hand, scan the list of firms. Dan has done the legwork, but the follow through is all yours. He isn't making the decision for you; he's giving you the tools to make one on your own.

"You did well, Humphrey," you say, keep your words casual. You don't need him knowing how much this gesture means.

"Was it enough?" he asks and you feel like you can't breathe. Lots of people eat capers with their lox, but Cyrus Rose's number isn't exactly in the phonebook.

"You really called him."

He laughs through the miles of concrete and river separating you and the warmth in your chest spreads all the way to your toes. "I'm a master of procrastination," he claims but it's more than that. He was there when you lost "W"; he knows what it mean to get it back. "Was it enough?"

"It was almost too much," you say and your voice is small and quiet and you want to cry again. You're not used to gifts without strings attached.

You spend the afternoon writing cover letters and revising your resume and two weeks later you're accepted as an intern at Cravath, Swaine, and Moore.

When Dan is the first person you call to share the news, it feels entirely right.

* * *

><p>The first time you have sex with Dan Humphrey you expect it to be awkward.<p>

He's from Brooklyn. He wears flannel and plaid and goes months without cutting his hair. When he speaks, he trips over his words and he has a habit of talking too much just to fill space.

You expect that he won't know what to do or where to put his hands. You expect to do most of the work.

It's none of those things.

He knows what to do and where to put his hands. He knows to press his mouth to the pressure point where your throat meets your shoulder, to skim his fingers down the planes of your back. He knows how to curl his fingers just right and ease into the rhythm you crave.

"You're beautiful," he says as he hovers above you and he shifts his weight so he can brush sweaty hair back from your brow and presses a kiss to each closed eyelid. "I wish…"

He doesn't get to finish his sentence because you shift your hips and he's inside you and your legs are tangled with his and you stop thinking at all.

Afterwards, you lay with your head on his chest and listen to the rapid beat of his heart.

You see the look in Dan's eyes right before he pressed inside you, like you were the only other person in the world. You remember the way it felt, like you wanted to slip out of your own skin and into his. Your body still tingles and you can barely move. It's been years since it's felt this good.

You tell yourself it's nothing, because Dan was trained by Serena, and she's nothing if not an excellent teacher in this department.

You tell yourself it's because it's been a long time, because you like the way he looks without clothes, because he's too stupid to be selfish, too nice not to see to your needs.

You tell yourself a lot of things but deep inside you know the truth: you had sex with Dan Humphrey and it means something.

* * *

><p>Dan's birthday falls on a sweaty day in July and you take Nate lingerie shopping a few days in advance.<p>

It should be more awkward but it's been years since you last saw him naked and you really need a male opinion: you want Dan to be in awe, but you don't want his brain to explode. Nate is good at spoiling Raina, much better than he ever spoiled you, and he tags along to buy a gift for her.

It's not your usual style, but neither is Dan, and Nate's eyes light up when you cross the threshold of Agent Provocateur and you turn to a display to keep from outwardly rolling your eyes.

"Do you think he'd like this?" you ask a few minutes later and hold up a matching set in pale mint silk.

Nate's distracted by garter belts and lace demicups but he does look up long enough to shake his head. "It doesn't matter what you're wearing. He only cares about getting it off of you."

You disagree. Chuck cared. He noticed La Perla panties and Cadolle bustiers. It mattered to him. "I want it to be perfect."

Nate's not always the quickest on the uptake and he's in the wrong environment to pay attention, but he does step away from the silk and satin long enough to offer advice. "He really likes you, Blair. It doesn't matter what underwear you're wearing. It's not what he cares about."

"How do you know? What has he said about me?"

"He doesn't really talk about you."

You're stunned. You endured social humiliation for him. You risked your friendship with Serena for him. You put everything on the line and he can't even tell Nate how he feels?

"Why not?" you demand but the reprieve is over and Nate is already examining a lace garter belt. You're left standing in a store you don't like, holding lingerie you won't wear, watching your ex-boyfriend buy underwear for his new girlfriend.

It's too surreal, even for you, and you laugh. Laugh loud enough to steal Nate's attention.

"What?" he says.

"Did you ever think we'd do something like this?"

He looks right into your eyes and they're the clearest you've ever seen them. "You'll always be in my life, Blair. Just not like before. You and me…it just wasn't meant to be."

You wrap your arms around him and he does the same, and he's broad and strong, with the right name and pedigree, but you never felt right with him. You think you love him too, but he's not what you want.

You pull away and clear your throat. Just because you don't love him that way doesn't mean you don't think about what might have been. "You and Raina? You think you're going to make it?"

He laughs and turns back to the lingerie. "She *will* care what I buy for her. Help me? Please?"

You spend the afternoon helping him build a future with a girl who isn't you. You part as friends and you realize things are exactly the way they should be.

* * *

><p>Nate is right about the underwear and you celebrate Dan's birthday naked in his bed.<p>

His back is pressed against his headboard and your thighs are wrapped around his hips and you're so close you can feel his heart beating in times with yours.

He barely moves, just the tiniest flick of his hips that sends a ripple all the way through you, and it's slow and sweet and you're staring into his eyes all the way through.

They're dark and hooded, lazy with desire, but there's something else there and each time you whisper his name you see it lurking there like a bright, shining light.

"Dan," you say softly but he shifts his position and you swear you can feel him all the way to your heart. You gasp and he grins and that light sparks to life in his eyes again.

"I wish…"he starts but it's your turn to move and he loses the rest of his sentence on a moan.

You stop worrying about whatever it was he was going to say. You just want to stare into his eyes forever.

* * *

><p>The next morning you're lying in bed when you bring up your conversation with Nate.<p>

The morning sun is just beginning to peek through the curtains and bathe the room in a golden glow. It's a perfect moment, warm and quiet before the hustle of the day sets in, and you don't want to ruin it but you have to know.

Everything is easy with him. It's time to tackle something hard.

"Why don't you ever talk about me?"

He looks up from trailing a finger across your stomach and a frown knits his brows. "What do you mean?"

"You never stop talking, Humphrey. We weren't even friends then, but I knew every detail of your relationship with Serena and it didn't come from her. Nate says…why don't you talk about me?"

His fingers still and he ducks his head, turns those dark eyes away so you can't see what's inside them. Your confrontation after "Hiroshima, Mon Amour" comes to mind and you remember the way he accused you of being ashamed of him. You swore you weren't, but…you never thought he might be ashamed of you.

He's quiet for a long while and you think your heart might have actually stopped beating.

You're from the Upper East Side and he's from Brooklyn. Your mother is a fashion designer on the rise; his father is a faded star. You wear Chanel and the nicest thing he owns is a John Varvatos t-shirt you bought him last week.

Your affair started as a social experiment and just because you let him in doesn't mean he's doing the same.

Your face feels hot and your breath catches in your throat and all the air is gone from the room. This can't be happening, not to you, not when you've come this far.

"It's no one's business but ours," he finally says and he looks up to see the panic etched into your expression and his own face falls. "Let me clarify. When I was with Serena, it was like I had to prove I was with her. If I said the words, it made us real. With us…I don't need a lot of words to make it true."

"We're an us," you say and test the words on your tongue. You were _ChuckandBlair, BlairandChuck_ for so long that you've forgotten you could be a "we" with someone else.

"Blair and Dan," he says. "What do you think?"

You like the way he separates the words but holds them together. You're tired of giving all of yourself to the men in your life. You're ready to share the burden.

"I like it," you say and lean over to kiss him. He arches over you, flips you onto your back, slides into the cradle of your thighs.

You can feel him all around you, his hands in your hair, his skin pressed against yours, his toes tracing the length of your calf. "I'm not like other girls," you whisper because you want to be clear. Before there's a _Blair and Dan_ you need him to know what he's getting into.

"I know," he says softly into the skin of your throat, his tongue tracing the pulse point there. "You're intelligent, intuitive…" His mouth slips lower and you gasp. "You're beautiful. You're…you're you."

They're not the most creative endearments anyone has whispered to you but there's power in the simplicity. Chuck peppered you with compliments from dawn to dusk but there was strategy in his words. Dan's mouth moves down curve of your belly and your fingers tangle in his hair and there's no game in the press of his fingers or the slide of his tongue.

He doesn't need fancy words for you to know which matters more.

* * *

><p>Eric leaves for college and you're required to attend the related party.<p>

Serena is there and Chuck too and you're acutely aware of the casual way Dan's hand rests at the curve of your waist. You remember the last time you met in the Van der Woodsen's living room, the way you pushed him away, and you relax into him this time.

Other people notice.

Serena drinks a little too much and squeezes your hand a little too hard when you come over to check in. "I'm okay, B, really," she insists. "I want you to be happy, but I didn't think it would be this hard."

"We can go…" This isn't about you, or your dress, or the McKinsey executive talking to Lily. This is about Serena and her brother and her family. It's not your show and you're ready to admit it.

She shakes her head. "I meant what I said. I love you both. I just need a little time, okay?"

You give her space, let her fill the night with her father and his stories, build the relationship she's always wanted.

You don't trust William Van der Woodsen but you don't intrude. You'll be there to pick up the pieces but you're done manipulating other people's futures.

* * *

><p>You find Dan caught in a conversation with Jonathan, debating Pitchfork or Coachella, and you've learned to tolerate Dan's music but you'd rather put a bullet in your brain than listen to this argument.<p>

You drop a kiss on his cheek and squeeze his hand and head outside, because it's August and muggy but there's no talk of Animal Collective in the Manhattan skyline. You lean over the rail and take a deep gulping breath. There are lights all around you and even a few stars shining and this world might be a prison but it's still stunningly beautiful sometimes.

"Is Brooklyn leaving something lacking?" a voice breaks through your thoughts and you glance up to find yourself alone on a balcony with Chuck Bass all over again.

"Go away, Chuck," you say and turn back to the night sky but he comes to stand beside you. It's hot and your hair is up and you're wearing a black dress. You're not seventeen but he's close and it's easy to forget.

To his credit, he doesn't call him "Humdrum Humphrey" again, but his words still pack a nasty bite. "Just because you claim you're ready doesn't mean you have to fall into bed with the first willing person to come along."

You should have a clever retort for him but your brain comes up empty. Battles of words and wills used to count as foreplay but now it feels exhausting. You're tired of always being one step ahead when you should be on the same page. ""Grow up," you say and try to walk away. You're not seventeen but he's the same Chuck Bass. There's nothing left for you here.

He's not tall and he's not strong, but he's fast and you can't get away from him. "He's wrong for you," he whispers. "Games and glory, that's what gets you off. He can't give you what you need."

You remember when he was all you needed and the night it fell apart: _his uncle, his dress, his hotel, his legacy. His, his, his his..._ Everything you had, you sacrificed it for him. It's time you did things just for you.

"Jack, the Empire…I should have never forgiven you for that."

"But you did and you know I'll never do it again." His mouth quivers and his dark eyes are wet and pained, but they don't make you give in. This is him fighting for you, but it's too late. You've come too far to fall all the way back.

The door opens and your future walks onto the balcony. "Blair? I was worried about you…" His voice trails off as he spots Chuck beside you. "Everything okay?"

You nod your head, hope you can diffuse the situation before it comes to blows, but Chuck has other plans. "Get lost, Humphrey. This doesn't concern you."

Dan steps into the light and his face is calm, but you can see the tension in his jaw and the way his hands are balling into fists before he slips them in his pockets. "Actually it is. Blair's with me. Her problem is my problem."

Chuck smirks and cocks a hip. "Is this the part where you hit me?"

Dan's fists don't fly. He doesn't jump to your aid and he doesn't throw a punch. "This is your fight," he whispers in your ear as he comes up behind you and presses a shoulder to your back. "I'm here if you need me."

"Come on, Humphrey," Chuck goads him. "If you're going to save the princess, show us how it's done."

"No," you say and both boys turn to stare at you. You know how this story ends. You've seen it before – literally seen it before – and you can't watch history repeat itself. "I'm not doing this again." You step away from Dan and towards Chuck, reach up and trail your fingers down his cheek. Behind you Dan makes an uncomfortable noise but you don't back down. "When it was good, it was really good, but when it was bad…we only bring each other down." You drop your hand to your side and his eyes slide closed. A tear even slides down one cheek.

You turn and head for the door, tears clouding your vision.

Dan's hand on your back keeps you steady as you leave Chuck behind.

* * *

><p>Dan pushes but you won't talk about the confrontation with Chuck.<p>

The ride home is quiet, Dan staring out the window while you stare at your lap as the car creeps down the FDR.

"Why didn't you hit Chuck?"

He shakes his head. "And now we're back to square one…"

"You wanted to hit him." You remember Jenny Humphrey and Jenny Humphrey again. There are few things Dan enjoys more than defending a girl's honor by punching Chuck straight in the face."

Dan sighs and turns away from the window. "I always want to hit him, but I'm not giving him that satisfaction."

"You didn't fight for me."

He rolls his eyes and his sigh is full of exasperation. "Don't you get it? You can handle him all by yourself." He takes your hand, thumb stroking a steady rhythm over your palm. "I would slay dragons if you asked, but you don't need me."

"I did handle him on my own, didn't I?" You're rather proud of yourself. A year ago, you'd have let Chuck trade you for a hotel but today you walked away. You squeeze the hand holding yours. You know why.

Dan doesn't respond and he doesn't let go of your hand but something's changed. His jaw is tense and his fingers are tightening around yours. "Are you still in love with him?"

His words take you by surprise. You've spent half the night plotting ways to keep Chuck out of your life and Dan has brought him right back in. "Why would you think that?"

"I saw your face, Blair." For once you're glad it's dark because you think you'd melt into a pitiful puddle if you had to face the sadness in his eyes. "If you do, it's okay. It's not like I wasn't around for _ChuckandBlair_. I just…I can't be in between."

You slide across the seat, straddle his legs so your skirt blooms over his thighs. You're not having sex with him in the middle of traffic, but you want him to see you, all of you, but especially what's in your heart. You tilt his chin so he has to look in your eyes. "I was with him for four years. I'm mourning but not for him. I…it's never easy letting go."

He doesn't look convinced so you press your mouth to his. "We're Blair and Dan. I want you."

His hands tighten in your hair and it tumbles around your shoulders. The cabbie squawks from the front seat but you ignore him, open your mouth and wrap your arms around Dan's head. "Do you see? I want you. Just you."

Two months ago you would have had an entirely different answer, but you're ready to admit the truth now. This is what you want. This is _who_ you want.

"I want you too," he says and his fingers start on the zipper of your dress.

"Not here," you say but you don't move and you sigh into his mouth as his fingers trail across your bare skin.

You manage to keep it together until the car unceremoniously dumps you in Brooklyn and barely make it into the loft before your dress is pooled at your waist and his pants are at his knees and it only takes a few strokes before you're screaming.

It's awkward and uncomfortable and there are a couple times he almost drops you but you still feel like the luckiest girl in the world.

* * *

><p>Writers live for feedback – please leave some if you have the time<p> 


	3. Getting it Right

**Title:** "A Sight to Behold"

**Author:** Lila

**Rating: **PG-13

**Character/Pairing:** Blair, Blair/Dan

**Spoiler: **"Shattered Bass"

**Length:** Part III of III

**Summary: **Chuck isn't the only Upper East Sider who needs to grow up.

**Disclaimer:** Not mine, just borrowing them for a few paragraphs

**Author's Note:** Thank you so much to all readers patiently waiting for the final part of this fic. I know it was a long wait, but real life caught up with me something fierce. Let's all thank my spring cold that allowed me to stay home today and get some writing done! It made all the difference. Thank you gain. Title and cut courtesy of Devendra Banhart. Enjoy.

* * *

><p>Dan says "I love you" on a chilly day in early fall.<p>

You're reading together in his bed, wearing his flannel, leafing through the second volume of Proust when he says the words.

"Blair?"

"Hmmn," you mumble and shift positions, roll onto your side so his shirt rides high on your thighs. They're a little plumper than you like but you've seen the way his eyes darken at the sight of a few inches of bare skin so you resist the urge to tug the shirt down.

"Blair, look at me."

You put down the book and glance towards the end of the bed. "What? Your tone is irritated but you liked the section you were reading.

"I love you."

Just like that, so simple, like he's talking about the weather, but there's nothing simple about the meaning.

You forget about the shirt and suck in a deep, gulping breath as all the air leaves the room. It's what you always wanted but not with him. You never prepared for this.

You try to say something, anything in response, but his presses a finger to your lips and smiles in that way that makes you warm from head to toe.

"You don't have to say it, Blair. You don't even have to feel it. But I do and I wanted you to know."

He leans in and replaces his fingers with his mouth and kisses you long and slow and sweet.

The first time you said the words, bared your soul in hope it would heal Chuck's, he threw them back in your face. It took begging, and pleading, and even though he said them more than once there was never a time he could say those words without looking like his world was ending.

Dan just smiles at you and freely gives what you've wanted most.

It feels like too much but it's the best feeling in the world.

* * *

><p>You don't say the words the first time. Or the second time. Or even the third time.<p>

He keeps saying them and you keep hearing but you can't bring yourself to repeat them back.

Love…there's Jack's hands on your skin and whiskey on this breath and the drumming beat of your heart. _Chuck, Chuck, Chuck, Chuck._

You let love break you too many times. You won't risk it again.

* * *

><p>Dan doesn't push. He doesn't pry. He doesn't let his disappointment show even though you know it's killing him inside.<p>

Still, there's always a pile of crumpled yellow-lined paper in his wastebasket and by mid-October there are four moleskine notebooks neatly arranged on the shelf above his desk.

So when he tells you his mother has requested a visit to her house in Hudson the last weekend in October, you can't say no.

You tell yourself love is all about sacrifices and buy a nice bottle of wine and raid your mother's European medicine stash. You're going to need codeine to get through this weekend.

You rest your head on his shoulder as Metro-North whisks you up the curve of the river and watch the grass and trees and darkening sky. The sun is just beginning to set and it's bathing the horizon in glittering shades of red and gold and even deep purple.

It takes your breath away.

There are sunsets in New York but never like this, never stretching so far and wide and endless. You're used to skyscrapers and fog blocking your vision, The Empire shining neon bright in the night sky.

You're not used to a world without limits.

"Dan," you whisper and dig an elbow into his side. "Dan, wake up."

He opens his eyes and gazes at you sleepily but his mouth curves into a smile as bright as the fading sun.

"Beautiful," he says softly and his eyes never leave your face.

"I mean the sunset," you tell him but his eyes are already slipping closed.

You curl into him and watch the last vestiges of sun slip from the sky. If he believes it, you want to believe it to.

* * *

><p>The weekend with his mom is…<p>

The weekend with his mom turns out to involve his sister and you wish you'd brought more than one bottle of wine.

She's more the Jenny is more the Jenny you found and less the Jenny you created, but she's still Jenny and inspires a visceral reaction.

Her hair is shorter and darker and her hemlines are longer and the only black she wears is a pair of worn boots. She looks as nervous as you feel furious, and you spend most of dinner saying little and pushing your food around your plate while Jenny prattles on about her fabrics professor.

You listen to her talk, like she didn't sleep with the love of your life and plot your downfall, like you can't trace very bad thing that's happened to you to a girl from Brooklyn. She laughs and she smiles and you don't understand how it can be so easy. She's younger than you but she's stronger. It's just not fair.

You grip your fork so hard your nails dig into your palm and take a bite of dessert and another and another and before you know it your entire piece of pie is gone and half of Dan's as well.

His mother, sister, and stepfather don't notice but he does. "Are you okay?" he whispers, rests a hand on your knee. His fingers are warm and strong but they can't calm the tight fist in your chest. You came here to get away but you've never been very good at outrunning your past.

You paste a brilliant smile on your face, glance right at Alison so he can't see the lies in your eyes. "I forgot to have lunch," you say and pretend you're listening to Jenny debate silks vs. satins. "I'm fine."

You can't see his reaction but he turns back to what's left of his dessert and you hear the clink of his fork.

He keeps his hand on your knee and you don't move it. You're terrified of what will happen if he lets go.

* * *

><p>He does let go and two hours after everyone goes to bed you're kneeling in his bathroom with the water running so no one will hear you retching the leftover pie into the toilet.<p>

Your eyes water and the tiled floor digs into your bare knees and one hand grips the toilet seat while the other holds back your hair and your insides explode in your throat but you hold fast.

You were the one who did this. You knew and you let it happen and now you have to make it go away.

Suddenly there's a hand on your back and Dan's arms wrap around you while he presses his mouth against your temple. "It's okay," he says as you gag and spew bile into the toilet. "It's okay."

You can't decide what you want to do more, throw up the pie or push him off you, but your insides rumble and there's a gagging noise coming from your mouth and you don't really have a choice. He's behind you the entire time, rubbing your back and nuzzling your hair.

"Go away," you say when you finally stop shaking. "Go away and leave me alone."

"Blair, we need to talk about this." His mouth is right above your ear and the words are crystal clear but you can barely hear them over the roar in your ears.

Your deepest, darkest secret and Dan Humphrey is coaching you through it. Serena knew, she always knew, but she wasn't a part of it. Dan never knew but he's here and there's nowhere to hide.

"It's nothing," you manage to say, flush the toilet and wash your hands and rinse your mouth with Listerine. "Just too much pie." You smile to show him that you're fine, but the eyes that meet yours in the mirror are dark with worry.

He knows you better than you imagined and he comes up to stand behind you, so you can feel the warmth of his chest seeping through the thin silk of your chemise. He doesn't wrap you in his arms but he does rest his hands on your hips and hold you in place. "If this is about Jenny we can go. She came home last minute and my mom couldn't say no."

You don't for a second believe that Jenny surprised Alison with a weekend home. She might have escaped the Upper East Side, but Gossip Girl is a tougher habit to break.

"It's not your sister," you tell him. "I eat too much sometimes and I don't handle it well. You know I like to be in control."

You meet his eyes in the mirror and the hint of a smile quirks his mouth but he holds on. "Blair, you're scaring me." His eyes are serious and sad and his fingers are tightening on your waist.

"I…I can't plan everything perfectly," you finally say. "Sometimes it's too much and I do something stupid."

"Do you remember Eric's birthday party?"

How could you possibly forget? "I failed a test, ruined the party, got fired, and wore two different shoes."

"And then you picked yourself up and dusted yourself off and got the job at Cravath. You're on the Dean's list at Columbia. It's okay if you're not perfect all the time."

"It's not that easy," you try to explain because it never has been before.

"We all screw up sometimes." He smiles and pulls you flush against his chest. "When you stumble, you can always lean on me. You're amazing just the way you are."

He catches your reflections in the mirror, his hair fuzzy from sleep and your face pale and waxy from puking your guts up. You don't look amazing but it's hard not to believe in his enthusiasm. Plus, he's found the exact right way to diffuse a horrible situation.

"You know that's a line from a Bruno Mars song."

His forehead knits into a frown. "I don't know who that is."

It doesn't surprise you. Your differences have always been what make you work.

He leans in and presses a kiss to your temple. "Your secret is safe with me."

You close your eyes and relax into his embrace as something warm settles deep in your chest.

It feels a lot like trust.

* * *

><p>The next morning you're kneeling in Alison's garden, pulling pumpkins, when a pair of black combat boots appears in your line of vision.<p>

You don't like gardening. You know nothing about it and want to be doing it even less, but Dan is watching a fútbol game with Alex and Alison has asked for your help and you're trying to let go a little bit.

Which is how you find yourself wearing a pair of borrowed overalls and plastic clogs while you kneel in the dirt and cut pumpkins from the vine.

And look up into the sunlight and to see Jenny Humphrey staring down at you from beneath a gigantic floppy hat.

It makes you want to scream, but you're a guest in her mother's house, so you just paste on your most condescending frown and put down your spade.

"What?" you demand.

There's a smile playing at the curve of her lips. "I kind of want to take a picture. No one back home – no one on the Upper East Side would believe what I'm seeing."

Gossip Girl has been selling your secrets since you were fourteen; she doesn't have the power to hurt you anymore. "Give it your best shot," you tell her. "I don't care anymore."

Her threat is an empty one and rather than pull out her phone she drops to her knees beside you and tugs at a pumpkin, and tugs and tugs and gets nowhere. You sigh, hand her the shears. "Here."

You sit in amiable silence for a while, passing the shears and cutting pumpkins. The sky is a bright, brilliant blue and the leaves are every shade of your fall wardrobe and you don't push it, not when everything around you is so beautiful.

"You know," she eventually says, breaks the silence you've been craving. "I only wanted to be like you."

"We've already had this conversation, Jenny. You wanted to be my friend so badly that you ruined my life over and over again."

"It wasn't that. I just wanted you to see me. Do you know what it meant to be Blair Waldorf's friend?"

You try to remember the Met Steps and "Kiss On the Lips" parties, headbands and tights-as-pants, and it used to be everything and now it's so far away. It's only a two years later but your life doesn't hinge on wearing the right dress or summering in the right locale. You glance at Jenny and her eyes are blue and lined in kohl but there's something familiar and warm about the shape of them. You don't have to look far to know why your life is different now.

"I guess it meant something."

"It meant _everything. _I was willing to do _anything_ for you to notice me. This is me trying to apologize, Blair. I did horrible things but that's not my life anymore."

You can't forget those early days, the errands she ran and secrets she kept, the way you'd dismiss and diminish her like she didn't matter because she had to be nothing for you to be something. You still don't like her. You don't trust her and you don't really want to talk to her, but you don't have the energy to hate her any longer.

"I'm lifting your banishment," you say. "You're free to return to Manhattan as you wish."

She pauses for a moment, like she's waiting for you to say more but you've given enough. "Okay," she finally says. "Okay."

She gets up and brushes off her knees, but she pauses before taking her leave. "Did you do it for Dan?"

It surprises you how quickly you answer. "I did it for me. High school's over, Jenny. Let's keep it that way."

She starts for the house and but she stops once before disappearing inside.

You look once more into those familiar eyes – there's too much good in your life to waste time on hate.

* * *

><p>Halloween approaches and Dan rejects every costume idea you suggest.<p>

Nate has moved out of Chuck's and gotten his own place and is having a party to christen the new apartment. His space is neutral territory.

Dan says no to Princess Ann and Joe Bradley, Sabrina and Linus, and you refuse to even consider Reggie and Brian.

Eventually you run out of Audrey movies and somehow you end in Nate's lobby wearing a shapeless black slip dress and even more shapeless t-shirt and a wig that rivals Serena's hair on her worst days. Dan is at your side in a grey t-shirt and Rufus' leather jacket, his hair hanging around his face in greasy strands.

"I can't believe you talked me into wearing this," you complain as the elevator climbs to Nate's floor. "I look ridiculous."

His fingers slide between yours, strong and warm, and he leans over to kiss your temple. "Romance, baby. Remember?"

"You owe me."

"You love it."

The elevator doors open with a loud ding and the noise of the party captures what you might have said in return. That word…you're still not ready for it.

At first it's a bit like your first Hamilton House function together, the open-mouthed stares and the rattle of fingers against textpads, but Nate's party is exactly like him –comfortable, easy, reliable – and the tension settles after a minute or two.

Nate greets you both warmly and you dig an elbow into Dan's side when you recognize the blue cargo shirt and red aviators. Raina appears in a tight black dress and matching gloves, a cigarette holder in one hand and tiara in her hair.

You laugh and tell her she looks lovely even though three days earlier you were hoping to wear the same costume. You laugh again as you watch the play of emotions over her face as her eyes take in your grunge getup circa 1995.

"You look…who are you supposed to be again?"

You sigh, because you knew this was a bad idea, but you see Dan across the room, laughing at something Nate says and looking more at ease than you've ever seen him at an Upper East Side affair, so you grit your teeth and try to explain. "It's this movie Dan loves. There's a couple and they meet on a train to Vienna and spend the night together talking and falling in love. The next morning they agree to meet in six months but don't exchange addresses and leave it to faith." You tug at the skirt of your ugly dress. "I'm her."

"So how does the movie end? Do they end up together?"

"What do you think?"

Raina looks at you funny. "I mean, it's a movie. They end up together, right?"

You feel the annoyance rise up in your throat and it you assume it's what Dan feels like 90% of the time, when the rest of the world doesn't understand and you don't have the energy to explain, but you push the irritation away and try to clarify. "The audience gets to decide. If you want them to be together, they're together; if you want them apart, they're apart."

Raina smiles, a small, knowing smile, the kind of smile that makes you want to smack her all over again, because it's a smile that says _I can see inside you and all your secrets. _"So they end up together," she says and her eyes drift to Nate.

You follow, focus on Dan, take in the dark hair falling over his forehead and the broad width of his shoulders and the way he smiles so wide and bright the moment he feels your eyes on him.

You choose your own ending.

"Yeah," you say. "They end up together."

* * *

><p>Your mother comes home the day before Thanksgiving and immediately asks why her cater waiter is drinking almond milk on your chaise lounge.<p>

You're still an intern and have more paperwork than NYC has cabs spread over the dining room table and you're not really paying attention to what Dan's doing, writing in a moleskine maybe? It's a lazy autumn afternoon and you're sharing space in companionable silence, because you want to be with him but you also have work to do.

Dan glances up as the words leave your mother's mouth and he's halfway across the room but can still see the flash of hurt in his eyes even as he keeps a smile on his face.

You kind of want to kill you mother. You haven't talked much about Dan, but you told her about him, one night on the phone with thousands of miles between you, told her about the boy who makes you laugh and feel warm and giddy inside, and even with that distance you _know_ she understood. She's Eleanor Waldorf, but she's still your mother; even she has to get it sometimes.

She does get it and catches her mistake even before Cyrus can frown. "Hmmn, too soon for jokes?"

There's genuine regret on her face as she drops her coat on a chair and comes right to Dan, kisses both his cheeks and smiles at him in a way you've never seen before. "So you're the boy making my daughter so happy."

The tension slips from his shoulders and his smile is more natural. "I've come a long way from pouring coffee, huh?"

Your mother smiles again and reaches out to pat his cheek. "Keep up the good work."

Cyrus steps forward and shakes Dan's hand and they fall into an easy conversation, catching up about what they've been doing for the past six months. You almost ask how they know each other at all, but the papers strewn over the dining room table catch your eye and you remember that afternoon when you thought your life fell apart and Dan threw you a life line.

It feels…it feels like it never has before, the way you can share a cup of coffee with your mother in the kitchen while your men talk in the living room. There are no secrets to hide, no schemes to bury, and you have no fear that Dan will reveal a deep, dark sin you committed. You're not on the edge of your seat waiting for your world to fall apart. You're…you're just enjoying your afternoon.

Later, after dinner is finished, you catch your mother standing in the foyer staring at the men sitting side by side on the couch.

"Look at us," she says as you stand beside her. "Two peas in a pod."

You glance at the couch where Dan and Cyrus are setting up the Scrabble board and see what your mother sees, two mismatched men who aren't supposed to fit into your world but you can't imagine ever leaving. You look at your mother looking at Cyrus, her eyes warm and dewy, and she looks at him in a way she never, ever looked at your father. You're tempted to look at the floor but you keep your eyes straight ahead, let her see the same feelings in your own expression.

It's not what you ever expected but that doesn't mean it's not exactly what you want.

* * *

><p>Lily was released from house arrest sometime mid-summer, but she's used to having her family around her in the confines of her own home so the Waldorf-Roses agree to have Thanksgiving at the Van der Woodsens for the fourth year running.<p>

Dan isn't there when you arrive but Serena is and Chuck too, and you exchange pleasantries with the former and ignore the latter.

Things are still strained with your best friend, Dan constantly hovering between you, and you suspect she's already two glasses of chardonnay into the night and it's only 4:00 pm. Still, she seems happy to see you and you stay at her side and pretend you don't feel Chuck's eyes following you everywhere you go.

You're not talking, not after your conversation at Eric's party, but you're not complaining. You can't move forward with your life if you're dragging the baggage of your past.

Dan shows up right before dinner and he isn't alone. She's wearing a pair of respectable flats and wiped the kohl from her eyes, but there's no mistaking his sister at his side.

Every pair of eyes in the room shift to you, Rufus' especially, because while he might not know the exact details, it's never been a secret that you were the reason his daughter wouldn't see him for almost a year.

"Jenny," he says and he hurries forward, arms outstretched, and he wraps his daughter in so much love that half the room averts their eyes. There's a grateful expression on his face and you glance at your mother and Cyrus as heat flames up your cheeks. You have so many people who love you in your life; who were you to take that from someone else?

Dan appears at your side and takes your hand, while Rufus and Jenny laugh and cry a little bit, and the rest of the party finishes their cocktails. "Thank you," he says. "This means a lot to my dad and to me…"

"I didn't do it for you," you interrupt in a rapid stream of words. You take a breath, compose yourself, tell him the real truth. "I did it for me." He turns, confusion filling those dark eyes. "I'm happy, Dan. Really happy. Holding onto the past isn't going to change what happened, but it can make me miserable. I don't want that anymore."

He smiles, leans in and brushes a butterfly kiss over your mouth. "I love you."

This feels like the right moment but you can't say the words. You did one nice thing, one good thing for yourself and for him and the world at large, but it's not enough. Chuck is here and Serena too, and their ghosts linger. The people you love always hurt you, especially these people. "I know," is what you say instead.

He just shakes his head and slings an arm over your shoulder. "One day, you're going to say it back."

You glance once more at Rufus and Jenny and you still can't stand her, but you know you did the right thing.

You lean into Dan as his love wraps around you and makes you believe you can do anything.

You like the person you are with him so much more than the person you were before.

* * *

><p>It's 2011 but <span>The New Yorker<span> runs a retrospective of past offerings by young writers and Dan's story makes a reappearance.

You didn't read it the first time and you don't want to read it now, especially when you know what it's about: true love, bleeding hearts, blond hair and long legs, Serena at first sight. You were there during the early days; you don't need another reminder of the girl he loved first.

Still, it gnaws at you, whatever he felt for Serena, and you try to resist reading the magazine lying unopened on the loft's coffee table.

Willpower has never been a personal strength, and right before New Year's you find yourself immersed in Dan's feelings for your best friend. It's not his best writing, the prose weak in some spots and cliché in others, but it's hard to miss the depth of emotion in his story. You might have been there for Dan and Serena parts one, two, three, infinity, but you're not quite sure you understood until you were confronted with his actual words.

"Your story was published again," you blurt out on New Year's day. You're at Bubby's having breakfast, pushing your food around your plate while he babbles about what you'll do during your final days of winter recess, and your words take him by surprise.

"My New Yorker story?" he asks.

"Yes, your story about falling in love with Serena." You don't mean for the words to come out clipped and terse, but you're annoyed. Chuck will always be a part of your world, but there's no written record of that fateful limo ride.

He puts down his fork. "Blair…"

"I know it's a story," you say and the anger disappears. Instead you mostly feel sad and a little bit helpless. You know too well how hard the past pulls. "You didn't feel the same way the first time you met me."

"And Serena and I aren't together anymore." He reaches out and takes your hand, rubs his thumb over your palm in that way that instantly makes the world seem a whole lot better. "It doesn't matter how I felt when we met. It's how I feel now."

"You love me."

He waits a beat, maybe a beat too long, and forces a weary smile. "I love you."

You know you're supposed to say the words, you _want_ to say the words, but not now, not with Serena hanging over the moment. You need this to be about you and right now it's about her. He waits another beat, holds on another moment longer, but when you remain silent he lets go of your hand and turns back to his food.

You curl your hand into a fist around the phantom presence of his fingers. You feel like you're losing him.

* * *

><p>He doesn't bring up the conversation again and things go back to normal.<p>

You attend classes and write papers, watch movies and visit museums, arch off his bed as his tongue traces the rim of your navel.

It's dark in the room and his eyes are hidden in shadow, but you hear his words whisper over your skin right as he pushes inside you.

"I wish…"

Your hips buck and but you concentrate with all your might and rest your hands on his hips. He flexes slightly and you suck in a breath, but they eventually still. "What? What do you wish?"

He wants to move. You both do, but you ignore the tension in his shoulders and hold him in place. He lifts his head, rests his forehead against yours so you can see every fleck of gold in his eyes. "I wish you could see yourself the way I see you."

He kisses you, soft and slow to match the rhythm of his hips, and you wait for him to say "I love you" but he buries his face in the curve of your neck and you lose yourself in the touch and feel and slide of him.

He doesn't say the words again and even when you fall asleep with your head pillowed on his chest, you feel like you're missing something.

* * *

><p>William Van der Woodsen disappoints the way you always knew he would and attempts to run off with half of Serena and Eric's trust funds.<p>

The plan fails, but the damage is done and Serena's world falls apart spectacularly. She insists on family only and you respect her wishes as the Van der Humphreys circle the wagons and you don't seem much of Dan in the fallout. You want to be there for her, but it's her crisis and her choice and you miss him, but you understand. You've been there for Serena meltdowns before and send over a platter of bagels and lox to keep them nourished while they hole up.

You're prepared to give him up until the storm blows over. You're not prepared for the Gossip Girl blasts that arrives a few days later.

It's a photograph, taken outside the Van der Woodsen's building, and it's Serena and Dan and there's nothing friendly about the way they're kissing each other.

All the air leaves the room and you actually start gasping, hands pressed tight over your breasts, because it feels like you can't breathe and your heart is trying to push out of your chest all at the same time.

The walls of your blue bedroom feel like they're closing in around you and you can't believe this is happening again: _"But that was it? You guys kissed?"_

You remember the way Nate's face crumpled and how he couldn't look at you even as the truth echoed between the walls: _I slept with Serena, I slept with Serena, I slept with Serena… _The boy might be different, but the betrayal hurts the same.

You can't stop crying and it's still hard to breathe and your heart is so heavy it actually hurts, like a fist has closed around everything you let yourself feel and won't stop squeezing. You vaguely wonder, for half a second, if this is what dying feels like.

You realize you're lying to yourself.

With Dan…it hurts more.

* * *

><p>There's only one place you want to be right now.<p>

Your heart has been shattered and there's no way to put it back together, but you know who'll understand.

Dark hair, dark eyes, dark heart…

You don't pause as you slip into a cab and bark directions.

You know exactly where you need to be.

* * *

><p>There are still tear tracks on your cheek as the elevator climbs and your hair is a mess, falling from its pins, but you don't bother fixing yourself up. He's seen you at your very worst; you've never been able to hide from the person who knows you best.<p>

You raise your fist and knock, too loud and too hard, but you don't care. There's never been anything delicate about this relationship; you want to fall back into what you know.

The door opens and Chuck is there, hair neatly brushed and impeccably dressed, but you don't recognize the sadness in his dark eyes.

Chuck has looked at you with love, with lust, pity and disgust, but never like this. It almost makes you turn around and go home, but your world is broken. There's no where else you can be.

You're already into the apartment and shirking off your coat when you realize there's someone else with him.

Dan is there and he looks…he looks like the most wonderful thing you've ever seen. His hair is a mess and his shirt is rumpled and his eyes are empty and hollow, but none of it changes the familiar shape of his face or the line of his shoulders or the deep, dark depths of his eyes.

You still feel like you can't breathe and take a deep, gulping breath as your eyes lock.

There are many things you want to say: _How could you? I hate you. Why are you here? I love you._

You don't say any of them. You can't take the look in his eyes, but you won't look away either. He already tore your heart out; you won't let him win this battle too.

Instead, you turn your eyes to Chuck but he isn't smirking and there isn't something vulgar spinning off his tongue. He mostly looks sad and a little angry, but determined too. It's not a look you're familiar with and you start to wonder if you made the wrong call.

The feeling grows stronger as Chuck picks up his coat and shoots a disparaging look in Dan's direction. "I'll leave you to it."

You don't understand. Chuck isn't your salvation but he's your port in the storm. You came here to self-destruct. Dan shouldn't be here to stop you. You finally find your words and they come out as tangled as you feel. "Chuck, what's going on?"

"I knew you'd come," Dan says. His tone is sharp and sharp but his eyes are still sad and you know he's all bark and no bite. He hurt you. He broke you. He doesn't have a leg to stand on. "So I beat you to it."

Chuck nods and picks up his coat. "Well, goodbye." He pauses audibly. "Friends."

You note his choice of words and your eyes slip back to Dan's as Chuck leaves the apartment in a flash of purple.

"What's going on?" you demand but already the anger is already slipping from your words. You don't feel any better, but it's hard being near him. You're so used to him at your back; you're not used to standing on opposing sides.

He takes a step closer, and then another, but you're not so overwhelmed that you've lost your wits entirely. "Stop walking. Don't come any closer to me. Don't even think of touching me."

He holds up his hands in surrender. "Okay, okay. But can we talk?"

You don't want to talk. You want him to snap his fingers and you'll wake up from a dream and there won't be a photo of him kissing your best friend. He's always been good with words, too good with words, and you don't want him talking his way out of this. He hurt you and he needs to know how much.

"I don't think there's anything you can say that could make this better."

"So you talk. Tell me why you're here."

You can't believe the audacity of him. He cheated on you and he's questioning your motives? "How dare you! I know you're from Brooklyn, Humphrey, but human decency can transcend boroughs…" You rant until you catch the slow smile curving his mouth. "You did that on purpose."

"I needed to know that you're listening. I'm not leaving until we get through this."

You blink, but you don't back down. Just because he's fighting for you doesn't absolve him of his sins. "You kissed Serena."

"She kissed me and it happened right in Gossip Girl territory."

"That doesn't make it okay."

"No, it doesn't. But neither is coming here."

You shake your head and the venom creeps back into your voice. "You have no right to judge me. One bumpy patch and you run right back to Serena. I should have known this would happen. It always does."

He takes a step closer and then another and then he's right in front of you and his arms are wrapping around you and you hate yourself for being so weak but it feels too good to push him away. "She kissed me," he insists. "It lasted half a second and the entire time all I could think about was you."

"So it didn't mean anything."

He pauses and chooses his words carefully. "Of course it meant something. It was Serena. She used to be my girlfriend and now she's my sister and I'm dating her best friend. It means my life is messy and complicated, but it doesn't mean I want to be with her anymore."

"All my life…" you start but stop because this is Dan and he should already know.

He pulls you closer and for a moment you think he'll kiss you, but he does know you and it's too much and too soon. "Serena will always be a part of my life, but I'm not in love with her anymore."

"I was there," you remind him. "I saw how you loved her." His story is fresh in your mind, Cotillion too, the White Party and Thanksgivings and Lily and Rufus' wedding, and every other moment you stood at Nate or Chuck's side and watched the way your best friend was loved.

He won't deny the truth, the way twisted himself into knots for years to meet Serena's every want and whim, but he can surprise you with his answer. "I love you in a different way."

"What way is that?"

"The way that lasts."

"Dan…"

"I loved Serena for half my life, but I never saw her. I see you. Only you. That's how I know it's different.

There have been men in your life that have claimed to love you, but never like this. Nate never held back your hair when you lost control and Chuck never stood at your side while you carved out your own destiny.

It's the worst possible time, but you can't help the words that spill from your mouth.

"I love you," you finally say and the most heartbreaking smile you've ever seen crosses his face.

"I know," he says in return. "I've always known and I believe you. I just need you to believe it too."

"I said the words." You can't believe you finally gave him what he wants and he's throwing your words back in your face. You're not eighteen and his father didn't just die. It's not supposed to happen like this.

"Maybe you did, but you have to mean what you said." He glances around the room, eyes catching on the scotch and tumblers on the bar and the monogrammed balls racked on the pool table. "You can't keep doing this. Running away, but especially running to him. If you can't trust me…what are we doing together?"

"It was Serena," you point out and don't understand why he doesn't get it. How can he not see how much it hurts?

"I know," he says. "But you didn't even ask. You just ran. Here. To him."

"Are you breaking up with me?" The words come out strangled and garbled, but you don't care. You don't need things to be perfect. You just need him to know how you feel.

"No. I just…"

He pauses and you take the opportunity to press your mouth to his. He sighs and opens his mouth and he tastes sweet and familiar and you never want to let go.

He's the one to pull away and he leans back and looks into your eyes. "I'm not breaking up with you, but I think we need some space."

"Space," you repeat and in your head it can only mean one thing: it's over and he just won't acknowledge it yet. Space for Nate meant ending things for good; space for Chuck meant Eva and Raina and half the female population of the known world. You wait for Dan to say the decisive words.

"I'm not going anywhere," he tells you. "I couldn't go anywhere even if I wanted to."

"But you want away from me."

"I want you to figure out what you want. You say it's me, but you run to Chuck. I love you," he says the words quietly, not like he's ashamed but like he's afraid of what you'll say in return. "I want you to love me too, always love me, even when the going isn't tough."

He kisses you this time, soft and sweet the way you remember, and when he pulls back there's nothing angry or ugly in his eyes.

He shrugs into his coat and promises to call and you realize you were right about him all along.

He walks out the room but he doesn't walk out of your life.

* * *

><p>You're still there when Chuck gets home. It's snowing and it's beautiful and it feels kind of like a fresh start. You know you should leave, but not until you put all the pieces together.<p>

"Blair?" Chuck comes towards you and if this was a year ago you'd probably disappear into his arms and lose yourself in him. You think about Dan and Serena captured in digital; it's easy to fall into old habits. "I thought you'd be slumming again."

His words roll off your back because you've heard them before and stopped caring a long time ago. "Why did you do it?" you ask instead because it's not a year ago and you're not the same people. This kind of behavior isn't like him.

Chuck shrugs and pours himself a drink. "He's kind of family now. It wouldn't be right to turn him away."

"That's not what happened. Why did you do it?"

He's taken one sip of his drink but he puts it down and pushes it away. "Get your coat.

"Stop avoiding the question – "

He sighs like he can't believe the words that are coming out of his mouth. "I have work tomorrow and you have school. Get your coat. I'm taking you home."

What seemed easy to discuss in the apartment is like opening pandora's box once you're in the car. This is Chuck and you might know him better than you even know yourself and you're never quite sure of what he could say.

"I did it for you," he finally says and you almost laugh because his words aren't mean and they don't hurt but they surprise you all the same.

"I'm in love with Dan," you say and the words are still new but they don't feel wrong.

"I know," he says. "I knew it at Eric's party and I knew it tonight. In Paris I told you I wanted to be a person someone could love but I haven't done a very good job of proving it. Eva, Raina…they weren't the right choice. Even if I can't be with you, I can't be a good man if I'm not worthy of you."

This time you do laugh, just a little, because you've been waiting four years for him to say these words and when he finally does they're not what you want to hear. You ran to him because you wanted to break and but he's healing you instead. Everything about this feels wrong.

He smiles too. "I know I've been cruel before, but I learned this thing about love. I learned it from you."

"What's that?"

"When you love someone, really love someone, you want her to be happy…even if it's not with you."

"Chuck…"

"I don't know if he's forever. I hope he's not. But right now, he's what you need." His hand slides over yours, fingers just brushing like that night in the limo, but he pulls away before you can latch on. "What's dead is dead. It's the here and now that really matters." He leans in and presses a gentle kiss to your forehead. "Consider this my repentance."

It seems another life, the boy he was when he traded you for a hotel, and the girl you were when you let him. You look at him in the moonlight and it's like falling four years into the past, when he caught you after Nate pushed you over the edge. You always hoped that boy was still there inside; now you know he is.

"I forgive you."

"You sure?" he says and suddenly you're sixteen-years-old and you're about to give him your greatest gift and he's gentle and sweet and it's terrifying and awkward but you wouldn't want it any other way. You still don't.

"I'm sure."

The car stops at your building and the moment is over. You can feel his eyes on you as you open the door and step out of his life but you don't look back.

"Blair, I love you," he says and you turn and face him, notice the bright, burning light in his dark eyes.

You don't reach for him and you don't say the words back. You smile and close the door and watch his car fade into the night.

You love him too even if he's no longer first in your heart.

* * *

><p>Dealing with Serena is the trickier part.<p>

She's packing when you get home, throwing things at random into a suitcase, with tears streaming down her cheeks.

If it were anything else you think you'd feel more for her, but you're mostly glad she's hurting as much as you are.

"If you're going to Lily's I'll have your things sent over. The sooner you're out of here the better."

She stops in mid-toss, a Missoni dress caught in her hands, and slowly turns her head to face you. "I'm so sorry, B."

"For kissing my boyfriend?" You put down your purse and shove aside a pile of her clothes so you can sit on the bed. "I guess I should be happy you didn't try to sleep with him too."

"I kissed him," she says and drops the dress to sit beside you. "He had nothing to do with it. I was upset and he was there…please, don't blame him."

"I don't. After Nate I shouldn't be surprised…I blame you."

She nods and closes her eyes as fresh tears slip down her cheeks. She's beautiful when she cries, beautiful when she does everything, but her beauty can't hide the person she is inside. You can't believe you spent years being jealous of her when now all you feel is sorry for her.

"You don't have to believe me, but this is the truth," she says. "On my first date with Dan, he cut our night short to rescue Jenny. I barely knew anything about him, but I knew that. He was a good guy, a really good guy, different from any guy I'd ever met. He used to save me too."

"I know," you acknowledge, remembering the rough leather beneath your thighs en route to Connecticut and the panic in his voice when you realized what Juliet had done. It was that rescue mission that brought you together in the first place.

She looks up from the balled up dress in her hands to meet your eyes and hers are anguished and sad and you feel more of your anger slip away. It's so very hard to hate the people you love. "For the longest time, I thought the only appeal Dan ever had to you was that he was mine. I knew you loved Chuck, but we never get over our first loves. I know you didn't forget Nate."

"It was never about Nate – "

"I know. I mean, I look at you and Dan and it's laughable that we ever thought you'd one day be Mrs. Archibald. The thing is…it's different with Dan. Four years and he always caught me and then this thing happens and I'm on my own. I didn't know what else to do and he was there and he was kind...please, forgive me."

You want to forgive her, the way you forgave Chuck and Nate so long ago, but you've been down this road so many times before and it always ends the same way. You pushed Chuck away because he was bad for you, but no matter how deep Serena cuts, you can't leave her behind.

"Serena…"

"I'm leaving," she announces. "I'm not just going to my mom's. I'm leaving the city."

"You can't leave." The words slip out of your mouth before you can really think them through. You're still furious, but you know exactly how she feels. Your life is riddled with mistakes, pregnancy scares and tormenting teachers and letting yourself be traded for a hotel. You can't judge her for crimes you've committed yourself.

"Blair, you can't even forgive me. Don't tell me you want me here."

You don't want her here, not right now at least, but she's Serena. You can't even remember a time when she wasn't in your life. For better or worse, she's family. You don't want her gone any more than you can hate her. "You left once and it almost ruined us," you remind her. "Stay. We'll work through this."

"It's different this time. Do you remember why I was in the Ostroff Center?"

"I remember that Juliet framed you and made you think you were going crazy." You don't understand what one has to do with the other. You're angry, but you understand why she kissed Dan; it's the same reason you ran to Chuck.

"I believed her."

"It was a trap."

"But I believed her. I thought I'd fallen off the wagon again. I thought I had it in me to self-destruct. Turns out, I was right." She reaches out and takes your hand and you want so bad to push her away, but you've loved her too long to run when she needs you. "I need to get better and I need to do it away from this place. I keep making the same mistakes and I hurt the people I love. I keep hurting you."

"S..."

"I'm not running," she insists. "I'm coming back. My family is here, my friends, you. I see the person you've become and I want to be like you. You're so brave, Blair. People don't expect anything from me, but they expect everything from you, and you still do what you want and say hell to all of them. I want to be brave like you but it can't happen here."

"Dan says I'm brave," you say and even wince because it's the exact wrong moment even if it's the truth.

She smiles through the tears. "Our entire relationship I was never good enough, never what he really wanted. Remember that story he wrote?" You casually nod; you don't let her know you have nearly every word memorized. "He always saw me that way, the girl at the party who couldn't remember his name. But with you? He's known who you were from the day you met and he wants you anyway." She tightens her grip, hard enough to hurt. "I need you to tell me something. If I asked you to choose, him or me, what would your decision be?"

Friendship is forever, but so is true love. "I choose him," you say and her smile is sad, but relieved.

"That kiss, it was never about him. Be with him, B. Love him. Make him happy. I love you both, even if it hurts."

"I'm going to miss you," you tell her and even though you wanted to strangle her ten minutes earlier you still find yourself reaching across the piles of clothes to wrap her in your arms. A year ago, you wanted everything she had but now you're the one in the spotlight: you have the school, the friends, the man, the love. Your heart is big enough to share it with her. "Whatever you need, I'm still here."

You help her pack and even follow her to the lobby to say goodbye. Your hug is awkward but you both hold tight. You've had twenty years to get to this point; you'll have another fix what went wrong.

"I love you," she says right before she lets go and you're surprised by how easy it is to say the words back. You're getting used to having love in your life.

She still looks like Serena when you break apart, slim and beautiful and gifted with charm, but you don't envy the sadness in her eyes.

You're Blair Waldorf and you'll always be shorter and darker and have to fight harder, but where it counts, you're the lucky one.

* * *

><p>You have dinner with Nate and Raina a few nights later.<p>

It's not your ideal way to spend an evening, but Serena is puttering around South Africa and you're trying to leave Dan in peace and there's not much else on your social calendar.

Nate asks and even though you have no desire to spend more than ten minutes with Raina Thorpe, you say yes.

"I saw the photos on Gossip Girl," he says as soon as you order your entrees. "I can't believe Serena did that."

You almost choke on your water. "You knew it was Serena?"

"Did you go blind over winter break?" Nate asks but you have no idea what he's talking about.

"What he's trying to say," Raina explains. "Is that it's obvious Dan would never do that. He's so in love with you."

You cross your arms and stare across the table. "People have loved me before but it didn't stop them from betraying me."

Nate's face falls and while you've forgiven, you can't forget. The past is past, but it's never really dead. "I'm gonna take a walk."

You sigh and reach for your wineglass. "That was uncalled for," Raina says.

"You have no idea what you're talking about." She doesn't. She wasn't there in your bedroom or the masked ball. She can't see inside your heart even if she claims to see inside Dan's.

"I know you think I don't understand but I do. Do you know why I'm with Nate?" She waits for your response, but you just shake your head. Their relationship is as inexplicable to you as tights-as-pants. "I didn't think it would work at first. We have nothing in common. I have a job, he's in school. I'm from Chicago, he'll never leave New York. I like games and he…he just likes me. I don't know your past with Nate, but I understand you, Blair, more than you think. It's hard to believe someone can love us, really love all of us, but they can." She turns her eyes to the window where Nate is standing on the street and glowering at random pedestrians. "The scariest thing I did was show him the ugliest parts of me but he loved me anyway."

You know you're not perfect inside. You have secrets and lies, things you'd like to hide, and too many times Dan has seen them unfold. He knows about the hotel and Jenny's banishment, your takedown of Ms. Carr and why you lost Yale. He was there when Chuck chose other girls over you, when your mother chose Serena over you. He held you up when your worst habit revealed itself during a night you spent in his mother's house. He's seen all of you, the high school you and the college you and the person you are today, and he's never walked away.

"It can't be that easy," is what you say because you've been in love, been in love too many times for someone so young, and it's always been like Sisyphus and his boulder.

She leans over and smiles, wide and bright, and she's still _Raina Thorpe_ but you think there has to be some wisdom in her words. "That's how you know it's real."

Nate comes back a moment later and you say you're sorry and he smiles his sheepish smile and says he should butt out of your life and you sip your wine and watch him with Raina.

They laugh and they tease, but it's deeper than that. You can see it, plain as day; you don't understand how you missed it in your own life.

You think you had to see what you want in someone else before you could recognize it in yourself.

* * *

><p>You don't waste time going to see Dan.<p>

You've been checking Gossip Girl like a crazy person and you know he's keeping his word and waiting for you, but it's already been five days too long.

You didn't understand what he meant then, but you get it now, what it means to truly love. Love isn't being there when it goes wrong; it's being there when everything goes right.

He looks exhausted when you arrive at the loft and even though you're supposed to be taking a breather, you're in his arms the moment he opens the door.

"You smell so good," he says as he buries his face in your neck. "I missed you." His fingers start on the zipper of your dress and for half a second you consider letting him take you, here and now, feel him deep inside you, pressing all over, right up to your heart.

It's not why you're there and even though it's hard, you pull away and take his hand and lead him to the couch.

"Blair?" he asks but he doesn't protest. He leans back and stares up at you with wide, warm eyes and you lose yourself a bit in those dark depths. You already know he loves you so much, but you want him to know exactly what he means to you.

"I'm ready," you tell him and his forehead knits into a frown.

"Ready for what?"

You take a deep breath and let him in the way you never have before. "I'm ready to love you. You once said you wanted all of me, but I wasn't sure you understood." You pause, try to find the right words. **"**You may not be aware of this, but it's not all light and bright in here," you say and tap your chest. "There are some places devoid of even a hint of sparkle. I thought Chuck was the only one who ever loved those parts, but he couldn't see the rest. You said you wanted all of me, and all I could think was, I scheme and play sex games and dream of myself in old Hollywood movies."

"Blair, tell me something I don't know." His words are teasing but he's serious. He sees inside you too well to miss the obvious.

"Chuck might have seen my dark side, but he never saw the good. When you look at me, you see everything, good and bad, and you want it all. I was scared before but I'm not anymore. You once wrote a story about the moment your life changed. Well, this is when it happened to me. It's not that night outside the Film Forum and it's not Eric's graduation party. It's not that trip to the country and it's not Thanksgiving and it's not even the first time you told me you loved me." You pause and close your eyes, remember the way you felt the first time he wormed his way into your heart and held tight. You'd ignored it then; you won't ignore it now. "There was this afternoon. Just a random afternoon in the summer. It was hot and sticky but we still stayed inside. We were lying on your couch and were literally stuck together with sweat…"

You trail off, take a gulping breath and try to slow your heart, his words playing over and over again in your head: _It's never too late to be brave._

"You're supposed to be wrong but you're exactly right. I was in Brooklyn and my hair was a mess and my dress was all wrinkled but I wasn't thinking about any of that. I was in Brooklyn and I was with you…and I was home." You walk slowly across the room and stop in front of him, inch your way forward until your knees brush his. When he doesn't flinch and he doesn't stop you, you slip into his lap and cup his face in your hands. "I love you."

He reaches up and presses his hands over yours. "I love you too."

This time, it's completely right.

* * *

><p>It's a chilly day in early spring and the morning light is just pushing through frost-coated window panes to coat the room in a pale golden glow.<p>

Dan's awake and watching you sleep and a smile curves his mouth as you open your eyes.

For once he isn't talking and his eyes say everything his mouth doesn't.

_I love you._

_You're beautiful._

_You're perfect exactly the way you are._

You believe him.

It's not something. It's everything.

* * *

><p>Writers live for feedback – please leave some if you have the time<p> 


End file.
